Tuesday, 11 June 2013

╝ Pouring is it? ╚


When the clouds gather and huddle,
Sky darkens over the dainty cover,
The small pit is now about to be a puddle,
Thoughts spring about that imaginary lover.

Whistles blown by the windy air,
Rustling through leaves and heaves alike,
Opening umbrellas and coats as a precautionary care,
The feel of an upcoming event you might like.

The flashes of light streak across the sky,
And that sudden glow in the darkened lair,
All eyes turn upwards appraising the high,
It booms warning you step out only if you dare.

The first drop catches the skin unawares,
Bringing back from the reverie of dreams,
The vendors, hawkers in haste gather their wares,
Ha! lurking rain in the bowels of clouds breaks the seams. 

All the quiet and silence disappears in a flash,
As it starts squeaking, slashing over the rack,
In no time it gains force pouring a dash,
Run for shelter find it soon or get a smack.

Darkness all around calls for thoughts of dread,
Thinkers race ahead of time in their silly mind,
"To catch the last local" crashes into their head,
But even in this crowd is the one smiling kind.

The one who throws all thought to abandon,
Caring not a bit for the fear of catching cold,
Simply to feel the drops drizzle on the body for fun,
The hearts still young though the body might be old.

Behold the beauty they say of the out pour of the heaven,
Smile at the rain bringing you gallons of happiness,
Count no time on the wristwatch nine ten or eleven,
Getting your being wet is a joy surely no less.

And though at times it feels so unwanted,
The slush, the mush and the obstinate mud,
Wading through the puzzles and taking nothing granted,
"Go away" you scream in all but cold blood.

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